


The fallen one

by Abby_K2020



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Character Death, Dean is a Softie, Demons, Evil Dean Winchester, Fluff, Good and Evil, Heavy Angst, M/M, POV Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_K2020/pseuds/Abby_K2020
Summary: Castiel is just another one of heavens soldiers caught in the middle of the great war between Heaven and hell. In the midst of a competition to bring in the highest ranking demon he meets Decanious, who makes him question what is really going on in heaven.





	The fallen one

_Silent cries of despair echoed through the dreary caverns of his malicious stare. His eyes were every lost hope and unheard plea rolled into the color of everlasting dark._

_Some say you could briefly hear whispers of the lost when you met his haunted gaze; as if a handful of unlucky souls wandering the pit had been sucked into their depths, sentenced to an eternity of warning the next poor souls who dare to confront the walking terror that is Decanious_.

Long nimble fingers absently smoothed up and down the battered decaying pages (you do _not_ want to know what material they are made from) as Castiel mumbled the words out loud to himself softly in a hushed tone from the ancient book. The young angel turned the tenuous pages with great care, eyes immediately moving to the handwritten words scrawled in ancient Enochian. These forgone tales were his favorites. The stories you were told as a fledgling to scare you into good behavior. The ones about the demons and the monsters that would come for you if it weren’t for the brave angels keeping them at bay it hell.

Brave angels like him, foot soldiers singeing their wings in the infernal flames to keep those abominations in their eternal misery. He is a warrior. A fearless weapon of heaven. But no matter how many years pass and how many of those beings he faces, he will always be afraid. The creatures he has seen are the most hideous and repulsive of all the living and other worlds.

He has fought creatures of all shapes and sizes with souls in various stages of decay. Creatures with the most vile faces, the most wicked of weapons, and the most wretched of hearts. But there are worse out there hiding in the depths of anguish and despair. The ancient texts from heavens library speak of such evil. These books are his only means of preparation if he is ever to come across the creatures who don't normally come to the light.

He brings his focus back to the primordial book in his hands, devouring and stowing the newfound ancient knowledge. 

_He is the dark messiah and the Shepard of evil. To cross paths with him would mean certain demise no matter your side in the eternal war of light and dark, for he has sworn vengeance on all, and belongs to no one..._

A hand on his shoulder causes him to tense. He jumps in his seat and covers the book with a protective arm, effectively hiding its content from the sudden intruder. He is greeted by the familiar face of Eleniel, the librarian. Her fawny wings twitch in amusement at Castiel's sudden alarm.

 "Easy Castiel. I was calling for you, you've got five minutes until I lock up."

She points to the book Castiel was still cradling protectively in his arms with her chin.

"You seem to be quite taken with this book, too bad i can't let you take it."

"I know, I know. No borrowing books four millennia and older.", Castiel says with a disappointed sigh.

"Sorry brother, those are the rules. What is it you are reading anyway?"

 Castiel finds himself oddly reluctant to move his arm away, and when he does Eleniel scans the book with an innocently curious soft blue glaze. He would say he knows Eleniel fairly well. When he is not on a mission of sorts he usually spends his time here. She has always taken a kind interest in him and is curious of what he reads, this is not the first time she has inquired about what he chooses to read. Though it is in fact the first time what he has decided to read has drawn a reaction of any kind from the older angel. The change in her is slight, but to Castiel's inquisitive eye it speaks volumes. As soon as her eye meets the name of the creature on the faded page a shiver of what looks to be a forlorn expression penetrates her careful mask before she reins it back, keeping her face now suspiciously blank.

Taking great care to keep his voice neutral, Castiel can't help but ask,"I'm reading the legend of Decanious. Have you heard of it?"

Eleniel does not meet his eye. "I have. His story is a sad one. "

Her answer perplexes him, but just has his mouth opens to ask a newcomer is bursting through the library doors. Its Balthazar. His grace is practically radiating excitement in waves rivaling the ones of hurricanes. "Ah, Castiel I knew i would find you in here. Have you heard the news?!"

Castiel shoots Eleniel an apologetic look on behalf of Balthazar's rowdiness in her library before turning back to his elated friend. "What news?"

"Michael is offering a fantastic reward  to whichever Angel brings in the highest ranking demon, Alive.", Balthazar is practically vibrating where he stands. His friend's enthusiasm is contagious, and despite his stoic face, Castiel can feel a trickle of excitement in his grace.

"He must be running out of options against the growing demon troops. I'll bet my wings he wants to get his hands on a higher ranking demon who can tell him exactly what they're planning down there." Balthazar in his enthusiasm has begun to pace the thousand year old carpet, his wings a deep radiant hazelnut ruffled and askew.

"Balthazar, you have not yet said what the reward is.", a laugh is making it's way into Castiel's voice.

Balthazar stops short in his frantic pacing and turns on Castiel with a fledgling-like glee in his eye. "It's anything you want it to be Cassie! If you are victorious, all you have to do is name what you want and it is yours!"

"Do you know what this means!? Just imagine if we were the ones to bring in the highest ranking demon... We could be responsible for victory over the dark armies! We could be given our very own garrisons to lead!" At this point Castiel has now stood and joined Balthazar.

"What is this 'we' nonsense you speak brother?", Balthazar playfully clasps him on the shoulder with a lifted brow. "This prize is for one angel only my friend. This is a solo mission, may the best warrior win. By that I mean me." With that he is bounding off with a laugh, leaving Castiel to ponder the possibilities.

 He turns his attention back to Eleniel who is paying no mind to the younger angels antics. In fact, her eyes haven't left the book laying open on the table. "I'll return shortly.", he says after taking a moment to find the words. He is only slightly disappointed that they come strenuously and most awkward sounding. His social skills still as ever need improvement.

The distant look on the librarian's face does not fade, and she does not look away from the mesmerizing text as she mumbles to him her farewell.

 

 

 A time period equivalent to five human days later is when the first of the angels brings with them a creature of hell. It's not the most powerful of them, but it's a start. It screeches throughout heaven in the voice unwillingly borrowed from the female vessel it is currently possessing. The angels watch with rapture and even cheer as Samandriel, who holds his chin proudly, drags the demon past and offers it to the Angels highest of the hierarchy.

The crowds part to let three of the most powerful angels in all of heaven past to examine the demon, like a prize sow at the fair. The first is Michael, leader of all angels and rightly so, for he holds the most power. He is rarely seen in the streets of heaven as he is now, but it is a special occasion after all. His vessel is one of an attractive dark haired man with muted, but intense blue eyes. It was a vessel that silently commanded the respect of his followers. The six wings behind him shine and reflect light brighter than the sun itself, but not too bright to drown out the intricate patterns of each feather on each wing. The second angel to step forth through the crowd is Gabriel. The second in power but most liked angel in all of heaven. His vessel is one of a short man with endearing smile lines on his face. His eyes are a golden color second only to the outstanding shine of the gold wings protruding from his back. Six of which, were equally bright and as beautiful as Michael's. The third to shove his way to the front of the angels was Raphael, who's stormy face always made itself known in the presence of others. He had the vessel of a man with dark skin and dark eyes, and his wings stuck out in direct contrast to his body in a bright rebellious platinum.

 Castiel tucks his small, but beautiful silver wings behind him in a respectful motion as they walk past. He sees others do the same.

Michael smiles as he approaches Samandriel, who still looks proud but keeps his head down humbly in the presence of his superiors. "Well done Samandriel. Where did you find this one?" As he speaks, Michael takes hold of the demon's hair in his fist and forces her to look into his blinding grace. It hisses and clenches it's eyes, making an attempt to spit in the archangels face but is quickly kept in check by his overwhelmingly powerful grace.

 "She was trying to take claim of a man's soul when I intercepted her.",The subtle shake in the lesser angels voice seemed to go unnoticed by Michael as he continues his examination of the demon below him.

"She looks to be a middle class demon. I would say... Five hundred years old. I shall keep her to see what she knows, if any angel thinks they could best Samandriel's catch they have the opportunity to do so." After his address to the crowd is at its end, he looks down upon the demon at his feet sharply and speaks to it in a softer, but much more threatening tone. "As for you, unholy stain upon my father's creation..."

He uses his grace to subdue the demon into cooperation, and his words are lost on Castiel as he walks towards the large building from hence he came, demon instep behind him.

"I'm going to bring in a knight of hell and show all of these angels who the mightiest warrior is."

Castiel turns slightly and uses every last essence of his grace to stop the urge to roll his azure eyes to the sky. Uriel, the most bigoted angel of all the garrison. (and in Castiel's opinion the most unbearable) "The reward is already mine." Confidence glistens off him like a slight sheen of sweat, even the posture of his shimmering chestnut wings gives Castiel the impression of a proud rooster. When Castiel says nothing he continues on. "You know what my prize will be Castiel?"

Again Castiel says nothing, but that seems to be the response Uriel was hoping for because the other angel smiles a smile of malicious glee. "You. When I win I will ask for you to be my prize. My mate. And Michael will give you to me because he will be so grateful that I have brought him what he was searching for."

That did in fact, get Castiel's attention. Now when Castiel has trouble finding words, it is not because of social awkwardness, but of stunned horror. "You..." All he can do is stare wide eyed and gape like a great fish with wings. 

Despite Castiel's obvious alarm, Uriel smiles. "You must blink or your pretty eyes will become dry." 

After a few straining seconds Castiel finds his tongue once again. "Don't ever speak to me again." With that, Castiel turns on his heel and stalks off with an angry swish of his pale trench coat. He now has no choice but to win the competition for himself, losing to Uriel is not an option. As he walks, a plan begins to piece together in his mind. A very foolish one at that, but if it works he will surely win.

 

He arrives at the library only a few minutes after his dread inducing talk with Uriel. He navigates the labyrinth of old books as easily as a bird navigates the wind. He knows exactly where the book he seeks should lay, and there it is, right where he discovered it before. He sits down and flips through the pages, not being as gentle with the fine print as he was originally in his haste. He takes a blessedly blank paper from one of the pockets of his ever resourceful coat and begins to scribble the ancient words onto the paper. He tenderly slides the book between the two identical rust colored books from where he found it. With the reminiscent of a new hope twinkling beneath his grace, he clutches the paper tightly, but carefully so not to crinkle it.

He is now on his way to the meadow he uses when he wants to take flight. He needs to find a safe and undisturbed place to carry out his plan. He passes the heavenly oak tree signalling the beginnings of Haniel's garden. His wings begin to spread in preparation of flight, the iridescent feathers catch the sunlight and shine in anticipation. He fully stretches his wings just in time to be intercepted by two big hands, who use his steady momentum to throw him to the ground. His hands are the first to meet the soft green grass, they guide his face away from meeting a similar fate. He rolls to his back just in time to be pinned to the ground by a heavy foot.

Uriel's maddening voice cuts through his confused haze as effectively as Castiel's blade would cut through his flesh. "So this is what had you in such a hurry?" A dark hand leans down to swipe the paper in Castiel's grasp. "A summoning spell? You wish to best me in this competition don't you?" He chuckles an ugly sound.

"You will be mine whether you wish it or no. In fact, I will use this creature-" He waves Castiel's work in front of his face mockingly"-to win."

"Give me death first.",Castiel is beginning to fear he's running out of options. The joints of his wings are screaming for relief where they are crushed against the heavenly soil beneath him.

All the response he gets is a disingenuous smile, before Uriel spreads his great wings and leaves heaven for earth.

Immediately Castiel follows his trail to an uninhabited pasture in the Midwest region of a country known as America. He lands gracefully and as silent as an oncoming darkness in the thick foliage along the perimeter of Uriel's chosen field. It's tranquil, and remains one of the few territories untroubled from the influence of man. As Castiel's eyes inspect the undisturbed field he must acquiesce as he spots Uriel's winged shape among the soft rolls of the land, that this is an ideal place to summon an immortal evil.

 The unmistakable carvings of a Devil's trap are engraved into the earth where Uriel stands chanting. The sigils begin to glow the color of burning embers as Castiel creeps forward, still hidden in the safety of the brambles. Uriel's strong voice becomes shakier the brighter the sigils burn, the soft breeze as if flipped by a switch stands still. Even the sun seems to go into hiding behind a barricade of clouds, casting the now eerie meadow in a desolate shadow. Whispers emanate from everywhere. Some are unintelligible, and some plead for the angels to escape while they still are able to. As Uriel utters the last of the ancient Enochian on the page, he tosses it aside in favor of his gleaming blade. The sigils fade back to their neutral black, leaving nothing but overwhelming silence.

"Show yourself detestable coward! Face me like the repulsive abomination you are!" Uriels words are threatening, but even as he speaks he steps away with unsure legs. Uriel, most pompous of angels, is afraid. With those words a dark figure is upon him, shaking the atmosphere with its noisy power. Uriel's wings jolt in a mighty tremor of fear when it appears before him in all of its insidious glory. It penetrates him with it's hollow glare, eyes darker than emptiness itself. What unsettled Castiel the most was not the darkness raging inside of the creature like a twisted storm of agony and torment, but the fairness of its skin and the loveliness of its features; for such evil is not meant to have a facade as beautiful as this.

 "Watch your tongue ignorant fool, or it will be cut from your head."

 It aims at Uriel a malicious smile, humorless and wicked in every way. Although Uriel hides his dread, the inner alarm echoing from his grace is palpable. To his credit, the angel wears a mask of bravery and straightens at the sight of his reliable devil's trap holding true.

"How dare you speak to me in that way you filthy-"

The clack of Uriel's jaw snapping shut is audible all the way to where Castiel is standing. His grace is overcome with unrestrained terror when he realizes why.

That is no demon.

Just above the demon's shoulders and behind his effortlessly styled hair, lay the wings of an angel. They shine in a flawless ebony correlating with the twisted grace within him, magnificent and sleek as they lay aside his back in rest. All trace of false humor is gone from his lovely face as he steps over the useless devils trap as if it were an ordinary line drawn in the earth. His face is a mask of silent rage as he advances on the now terrified Uriel.

"Aww don't stop on my account. Now... what were you saying?", the silent dare in the black angels mocking baritone voice is heard loud and clear. He walks until he is at arms reach from Uriel, who looks to be pinned to his spot by the magnitude of the creatures being.

Uriel gulps, and in a surprisingly steady voice asks,"Who are you?"

A hand is driven into the angels chest in one swift motion, returning with a heart pulsating between its fingers. The heart valiantly keeps its rhythm in the dark angel's hand, kept beating alone by the grace harbored within it. The blade in the Uriel's grasp escapes his fingers and meets the earth in a feeble thud, and Uriel's body soon follows as the vital organ is crushed within the black angels fist. His great wings leave their mark in the vacant pasture as they burn in a bright flash of grace.

Trembling, Castiel answers Uriel's question with a terrified whisper.

"Decanious."

 From across the meadow black eyes flicker like a drawn up shade to reveal a color green so vibrant that when they look up to stare directly at Castiel through the foliage, all he can do is search their iridescent depths as he stares back.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think and tell me if I should continue this!


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